A remarkable year

Even Epic! as  Kwame would say.

The year that:

I started to blog. I’ve found and sometimes lost, the discipline of writing and publishing a piece each week.

The year that:

Our Nigerian brother who had been rooming with us went back to Yorubaland but not without us first being confronted by some of the most Dickensian of conditions and bureaucracy. Before he left, he said that the deepest desires of our hearts will be realized as he’d spent much time in prayer. Within weeks of his departure, we began to see that this was true.

The year that:

Kofi got a job. To use his words, he’s a footballer playing rugby. My ‘carbon-footprint-renewable energy-I-don’t-need-a-suv’ husband is now working for one of the numerous firms that are trying to get the new airport ready.

His tales from work are worthy of their own blog. The firm’s German based in Qatar.  I’ll allow a few seconds for stereotypes to come to mind.  Yes correct, you could not get two more different approaches to life, work, the universe than the Germans and the Arabs.

Then there is the language that commonly divides which does not so much involve the above mentioned tribes. Its one of the more benign legacies of colonialism – a Nigerian, a Pakistani and a Philipino – no they don’t walk into a bar – they each think they speak perfect English but don’t understand each other’s accents. Cue hilarity and Kofi (the British Ghanaian) being interpreter, sometime referee but often time court jester.

The year that:

I became the mother of two sons. We welcomed Raphael Kojo to the world on 13 January 2014.  I guess I’ll never learn to braid hair now…

How was the last year for you?

 

 

 

 

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